I Did It
By DH
I’ve spent most of my life going through a struggle
I’ve been at the bottom of the totem pole causing harm and affliction to others
I’ve been at the lowest part of the food chain
Starving to the point where my body had to eat from my muscles
I’ve been lied to and deceived, confused and misguided
I’ve been looked down upon and treated like I was nothing
My smile hurts so bad it feels like I’m not smiling at all
I haven’t cried in years and not too often do I complain
I just act nonchalant because if I don’t care I’ll feel no pain
I don’t really vent because it’s no one’s business
People don’t care anyway; they just pretend to listen
I’ve been tested and tested left and right
I’ve fought physically and mentally with all my might
I’ve laughed in death’s face like it was a clown or a joke
I’m as stupid as the porcupine that keeps poking itself
I waited miserably in jail for three and a half years
Working on my character trying to change gears
All I wanted was a chance to be free, a chance to finally live
I was a caterpillar fresh from a cocoon but right before I could spread my wings
I was told to go back because I chose to partake in yet another criminal scheme
So for the next 3-5 years I’m going to beat myself up
And since no one put me down, I can’t expect no one to help me get up
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The poets featured here are currently incarcerated, and many of them are in federal prisons far from home. Your feedback is a valuable source of motivation and connection to the outside community. Post your comments, feedback, and encouragement in the space below the poem. Messages will be passed on directly to the author. Comments may not appear immediately on the site, as our team processes them to mail to the poets.
You could definitely see your enthusiasm within the work you write.
The world hopes for even more passionate writers such as you who aren’t
afraid to mention how they believe. At all times follow your heart.
DH-
This poem grasps at and encapsulates a wide range of emotions: rejection, disenfranchisement, marginalization, anger, frustration, regret, self-loathing. Your rhymes are so fluid, they read effortlessly, like you just wrote this in a matter of minutes.
I particularly like the way you use words that rhyme when read aloud but don’t in fact rhyme on paper…somehow the line “I’ve spent most of my life going through a struggle” works perfectly with both the line “I’ve been at the bottom of the totem pole causing harm and affliction to others” and “Starving to the point where my body had to eat from my muscles.” Very impressive. Most poets wouldn’t string muscles, struggle, and others together in one rhyme scheme.
My favorite line is “I don’t really vent because it’s no one’s business
People don’t care anyway; they just pretend to listen.” (Again business and listen rhyme strangely). It’s true that most people don’t listen. They just pretend to, or wait until they can speak. That’s why poetry is interesting because for some reason- people do listen. At least for a little while. This line is my favorite because I can understand exactly what you mean and you sum it up perfectly.
I also really like the line about the porcupine “poking itself”- again your imagery is really clever and deliberate.
The ending line is perfect too- it ties the poem up perfectly. The poem sort of takes you on a rollercoaster ride of emotion: going to jail, the anger, the frustration, going back to jail, blaming yourself, etc. and then it sort of ends with a moral, or parable like an old fable: “And since no one put me down, I can’t expect no one to help me get up.”
It makes me really sad that no one can help you get up but yourself. But for too many this is true. Blaming yourself for your situation makes the poem take on a much more tragic and cyclical feeling, one which you can’t escape. On one hand, you are responsible for your actions and taking responsibility and accepting blame for these actions is important. But it seems like you also question the society that you grew up within, of which you are ultimately a product, and which ultimately at times forces people into criminality by limiting their resources or options. We only have so much free will in this sense, as we are defined at times by the where and how we were raised.
Your poem reads like a lot of Beat Poetry- an outcast looking in, but also speaking to other outcasts. Not realizing that there are more people that feel like outcasts than that don’t. I will share your words with others, as long as you continue to write them.
-CP